I guess there are some things I’ll never forget. I can remember it as though it happened yesterday. The anticipation of the day ahead caused me to wake up at 7 a.m., which was way too early for a 6-year-old to be up and about on a Saturday morning, but this Saturday was different. In my short life there were very few constants which I looked forward to each and every year. This particular Saturday happened to be one of those constants. This was no ordinary Saturday in October. I was a little young to understand exactly why this Saturday was special, but there was a feeling of passion flowing through my veins that I had experienced only on rare occasions in years past for which there was no concept but only a one word explanation-Homecoming. As my feet touched the carpet on the floor beside my bed, I could see my daddy sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He looked over and tried to match my giant 6-year-old grin because he was almost as excited as I was. After sitting in his lap for about 20 minutes asking dozens of questions in typical 6-year-old fashion, it was time to get ready. I couldn’t wait to put on my brand new maroon sweatshirt that my mama had laid out the night before.
By about 9:30 a.m. I finished getting ready, and my mother fixed everything I had messed up-thus, it did not look like I dressed myself. Though the game was at 2 p.m., Daddy was acting as though we had already missed the first quarter as he repeated, “Homecoming is an all-day event. If you don’t get there early and leave late, there’s no point in going!” Finally, by 10 a.m., we were in the car and on our way.
The stadium was about 10 minutes from our house, so we parked about a half-mile away. As campus was already abuzz with thousands of tailgaters, I walked along with Mama, Daddy, and my sister, Kelly, at a brisk pace. After about 100 yards, when it was obvious that I was not going to be able to keep up with the strides of my father’s 6-foot-7-inch frame, he hoisted me up on his shoulders. I stayed atop his shoulders for hours as he and my mother walked alongside my sister, aimlessly strolling through the crowd outside of the stadium, visiting old friends and reliving old memories.
Ironically, I don’t remember a thing about the ballgame that was played on that particular fall afternoon. I can remember the sound of the band roaring into the stadium to the tune of “Hail State.” I can remember looking out into a sea of maroon inside the stadium and feeling my heart pound inside my chest as I looked down proudly at my brand new maroon sweatshirt. Finally, I can remember seeing the pride in both of my parents’ eyes as the Homecoming court, along with the band, took the field at halftime. Truthfully, I was unable to comprehend exactly what made this atmosphere special, but there was something about Homecoming at Missisippi State that exposed an unparalleled sense of pride in both of my parents and placed this event among the most sacred of annual events in my 6-year-old life.
I’ve experienced many MSU Homecomings since that 1986 October Saturday, and I still feel that 6-year-old rush in my chest as The Famous Maroon Band roars into the stadium. I still enjoy seeing the pride in parents’ eyes, as well as my sister’s, who is now also an MSU alumna, as they greet their friends from past days at Mississippi State.
Nevertheless, it was not until I became a student that I truly realized what made Homecoming special to all who wear the maroon and white. Most of us only get four to five years to take one day to actively celebrate everything great that makes Mississippi State a great place. For one day, we showcase our departments, we open our fraternity and sorority houses, we present our best and brightest that we have named the Homecoming Court, we join each other in the stadium for a football game, we eat together as friends and family and, most of all, we find that rare moment when the past, present and future become one rich tradition at Mississippi State University.
All too often, we, as students, get caught in our busy college schedules and quickly forget that time is passing and we are getting older. Tomorrow is a special day. It is special for the thousands of alumni who will come back to the place they once called home. It is special for the 6-year-old who doesn’t quite know why his chest pounds when he wears maroon on this particular Saturday. Most of all, it is special for every student, from every walk of life at MSU, because we only get four or five years to represent everything that this place we call State is and always will be. Sometimes, as we get older, one of the hardest things to do in life is to simply stop and smell the roses-tomorrow is a perfect opportunity.